A Tale of Three Christmases
by Merrick Mayfair
Summary: Three Christmas themed one shots from the Keeping the Stars Apart and Tales of the Third Brother verse. Will contain some angst, but mainly fluff and seasonal goodness. Will definitely contain spoilers for the main story lines. Loki /Hermione, Thor/Jane, Harry/Sif
1. Chapter 1

_As promised, a little something extra for Christmas. This first story is from the KTSA verse, and came to me all in one go. The second, which will go up before New Year, will conclude the "Sif's Quest" story in the "Tales of the Third Brother" while the third will be an epilogue to the whole story..._

 _Thank you so much for reading, and for all your support since I first started all this madness in the Spring. I cannot begin to tell you how important it has been to me._

 _With love. Merrick x_

* * *

 **A Tale of Three Christmases**

 _Christmas the First. Hogwarts Castle…._

In spite of his aversion to the excessive feasting and drinking associated with it, Loki had always adored the great Midwinter Festivals of Asgard. There was something very magical about the tingling chill in the air, the way the palace gardens sparkled with frost and candlelight, and within, there was always warmth and music and merriment. Even his Father had seemed less remote and irritable over those magical weeks of Midwinter. No matter where he travelled through the paths of Yggdrasil, something in Loki had always drawn him home in time for Midwinter. So as the crisp golden autumn of his first year of exile darkened to a damp, chill winter, Loki's heart turned increasingly to his memories, and to the Midwinter gathering which would take place without him this year. This would not be the first time he had been absent, he knew. He had missed last year too, his body starved and tormented in The Other's dungeon, his mind locked in madness. But this year was different, this year he _knew_ what he was missing.

To be fair, he knew that Thor and his mother would welcome his return with open arms, even for a few days. His Father still slept, with little chance of his ever awakening again, and it may be that he might be able to persuade Hermione to accompany him. But while his heart longed for Asgard, his logical mind told him that he was far from ready to return – far from ready to face the memories of his treatment at Odin's hand on his last visit. It had been less than half a year since he had escaped, slung over his brother's shoulders like a hunted stag and he knew in his heart that while his body was healed, his mind was still far from it. His concentration was fractured and unreliable, like his magic. Neither were helped by the horrific nightmares which still plagued him, and could be triggered by the smallest thing. Worst of all though were the terrible attacks which struck him out of nowhere – admittedly more rarely these days, but they were humiliatingly difficult to control when they did, leaving him shaking and gasping for breath and often weeping like a frightened child. The memory of the most recent still left him burning with humiliation.

He had wished to borrow a book from Draco, and had sought him in the dungeons, in his office close to the Slytherin Common Room. Unfortunately Loki's knowledge of the dungeons was still sketchy at best, and in his haste he had taken a wrong turning, ending up hopelessly and utterly lost. As the corridors had become darker and narrower, he had been increasingly aware of the weight of the great castle above him, and the irresistible sensation of panic had started to build.

It was fortunate, said Hermione later, that the Grey Lady had also been seeking privacy and solitude that evening, and had stumbled – or maybe glided – upon him huddled in a corridor, pale, clammy and unable to breathe. She had immediately sent a message to Hermione via the Castle portraits, but Loki still cringed at the thought of his being found in such a condition. He was a Prince of Asgard, not some pathetic child to cry and whimper in the darkness – neither was Hermione his mother or his nurse, to have to tend him in such a state.

He was aware that he was being irritable, even with Hermione. He had taken to sleeping the day away in front of the fire in their chambers, knowing that his sleep at night was likely to be broken and hard to come by. As a consequence, he and Hermione had drifted apart, passing one another at the beginning and the end of the day, no longer connecting or communicating. Without any kind of occupation Loki was bored and frightened and frustrated, alternately shutting down and lashing out like the black panther that Hermione had always likened him too. Finding him increasingly difficult to deal with, Hermione had taken to spending more and more time working in her study or in her potions lab.

It was entirely understandable – but it didn't help.

Things came to a head one Saturday morning in the middle of winter. Loki had decided to make an effort, and had retired with Hermione the previous night, determined to spend the night in their bed like a civilised person. But his mind had refused to settle, and Hermione, rising early had found him huddled pale and sleepless in his usual spot by the fireplace.

He had not intended to be so irritable with her, but he was exhausted both mentally and physically, and the fear was beginning to whisper to him that maybe this was not going to go away. That this would be the beginning of a spiral into madness from which he might never recover. Gods had gone mad in the past, he knew, from childhood tales whispered in corners and around the fires late at night. His own blood father – Laufey – had not been known for his stability…

Even by their standards, the quarrel that had resulted had been spectacular for both its intensity and its duration. Previously, Hermione had always been the one to either smooth things over, or leave, to give them both time to calm down. This time though, his brilliant, beautiful witch - driven to the end of her tether - had shown the core of solid steel he knew to lurk beneath her gentle exterior. She had refused point blank to either back down or leave him in peace, and in the end it had been Loki that had hurled himself furiously out of the room, summoning his heaviest winter cloak as he went.

His temper carried him down the stairs, out of the front door, and almost to the edge of the Dark Forest before he finally slowed down, seeing the Giant – Hagrid – sitting on the step of his hut, a huge steaming mug of tea in his hands.

Seeing Loki approaching, he nodded politely. "Good morning Mr Lawes. Yer up early for a weekend." Seeing Loki's face clearly under his hood for the first time, he frowned. "Are you alright?"

It had been on the tip of Loki's tongue to tell the gamekeeper to mind his manners and stay out of the affairs of his betters, but his encounter with Banner's green beast had taught him caution, and there was something in Hagrid's beetling black eyes which brought him up short.

"Loki"

Hagrid's eyebrows lifted into his thatch of wild black hair. "Loki?"

Why he was succumbing to the urge to confide in the Hogwarts gamekeeper, Loki had no idea, but Hermione had spoken well of him, and for all his imposing stature and wild appearance, there was something very kind and soothing about him….

"My…my name isn't William Lawes at all. It's Loki"

Hagrid nodded thoughtfully. "And does 'ermione know that yer – Loki?"

"Oh yes – she was the one that suggested William Lawes."

Hagrid shrugged. "Thas awright then." He looked down into his cup thoughtfully for a moment. "Looks like I'm in need've a refill. D'you want ta come in?"

For all his Jotun blood, Loki's Aesir form had little more resistance to the cold than a mortal, and in spite of his heavy cloak, he could feel the chill creeping up through the soles of his boots, and the tip of his nose was starting to go numb. "Yes please"

Loki climbed the steps into the golden warmth of Hagrid's hut, and looked around in frank wonderment. "When we were boys, you would never have got my brother and I out of here…" His eye was caught by something on the mantelpiece… "Oh my! Is that a _dragon egg_? I didn't realise that you still _had_ dragon's on Midgard?"

Hagrid was busy with kettle and teapot, and for a moment, the implications of Loki's words didn't sink in.. "Aye well, yes, that might be a dragon e….." he stilled suddenly and looked up at Loki – frowning. "…Yer not from around these parts are yer?"

Mutely, Loki shook his head, knowing he had said too much. What in all the Nine was wrong with him? He had never struggled to guard his tongue before. Everything was crashing in on him again, his vision was starting to grey around the edges, and even though he knew there was no running water anywhere closer than the Black Lake, he could still hear the water bubbling over the rocks outside that accursed cave.

 _The cave….. It was cold, and dark… and the_ **pain** _in his ribs when he breathed, in his arms and shoulders, and in his bruised and swollen face where it rested against the rocks, but most of all burning in droplets of fire over already damaged flesh, making him scream, all the time knowing that there was no-one to hear him.…. that no-one was coming this time…_

He was dizzy and gasping for breath when he became aware of a huge hand steering him gently into a large chair.

"Easy now, tek it easy. Jest breathe, nice n easy like. Thas it, nice n easy, you'll be ok in a minute…" A deep voice was murmuring comforting nonsense to him, as his body and mind gradually came back under his control. Weak and humiliated, he leaned against the back of the huge chair, resisting the urge to curl up in it like a child. Not wishing to see the pity in Hagrid's face, he stared blankly into the fire..

"Here, drink this…"

A huge cup of tea was placed carefully into his hands, and a large lumpy woollen blanket was tucked over his knees. Loki knew that he should tell this presumptuous servant that he was a Prince and a warrior, not some wilting maiden to be cosseted and fussed over… But right now he needed this too badly. The tingling numbness and tremors from his attack were fading as warmth returned to his limbs, and the tea was hot and sweet, just the way he liked it. "Thank you"

Picking up his own cup, Hagrid seated himself in the chair opposite, dropping his hand to rub the ears of the huge hound that was dozing beside him.

"I remember 'ermione sat in that chair, drinkin' tea when she was jest a bit've a thing. When they first used to come n visit me - 'er n Ron, n young Harry a'course – they'd all fit in that chair. Course those were the days when them n young Draco – Professor Malfoy I should call 'im now – din't get on as well as they do now. Difficult times they were. Dark days." The twinkling black eyes rested on Loki with disconcerting directness. "What 'appened – jest now. Tisn't anythin' to be ashamed of yer know. After everythin' that 'appened in those days – well I'm sure 'ermione will've told yer – about the battle n'all."

"Yes"

"There were too many good folk killed in that battle. But there was others, those that'd been wounded, those that'd lost people, and some that'd been 'eld prisoner by the Death Eaters, and tortured, or been forced to torture or kill other folk. Some 'a them was taken the same way."

"What happened to them? Did they get better?" Loki wished his voice didn't sound so shaky – so – _young._ But he really needed to hear that they had recovered, that they had been able to come back. That this wasn't going to be his life from now on…

Hagrid shrugged. "Some did n some didn't …."

Loki closed his eyes, wishing that for once, someone could just tell him that it was all going to be alright..

"…But I'll tell yer this. No one got better on their own…. Now I don't know what it is that yer've been through – yer don' 'ave to tell me if yer don't want to. But yer need to stop thinkin' about this as summat' weak or shameful… This means that – whatever it was – yer survived. An' now yer here, and yer safe and yer got a good girl in that there castle – no doubt frettin' now about where yer are and the almighty row yer've just had." Seeing Loki's startled expression, he chuckled into his beard. "I'm not as young as I used ta be lad, but I'm not dead yet…." He leaned forward, tapping Loki's knee with a large hand. "Yer need to talk to someone. Talk to 'ermione by all means, but you might need more'n that"

"You mean a Healer?" Loki grimaced in distaste. "Hermione suggested some kind of …. mind Healer in London."

Hagrid nodded wisely. "D'yer love her? 'ermione?"

There was no room left in him for vanity… "Yes"

"Then y'need to beat this. Tisn't easy I know. Specially as you look like the kind've young man as is used ter workin' things out on 'is own. But think about it….."

Loki realised he had got to the bottom of his tea cup, and rose to leave, folding the rug tidily. "I will. Thank you Hagrid… for the tea – and for everything…."

Hagrid rose to usher him out. As Loki was heading back across the grass, he paused for a moment, looking upwards, as the first flakes of the first snow of winter started to drift down… and Hagrid was suddenly reminded of another black haired, green eyed wizard, standing there, looking up at the snow…

"Loki"

He turned back, snow dusting his hair and cloak "Yes"

A bit later, I'll be bringin' in the Christmas trees – if you fancy givin' me a hand that is…"

The smile that lit the thin pale face was startlingly sweet.

"I'd like that. Thank you…."

ooo0ooo

When Loki got back to their chambers, there was no sign of Hermione. Neither was she in the Great Hall. Summoning Kreacher, Loki was informed that "Mistress Hermione is in her lab and does not wish to be disturbed…" _especially by you_ hung unspoken in the air….

Loki's first instinct was to rush down to the lab and demand to speak to her. But he had started this, he now needed to give her a little space. If she wished to be quiet for a while, that was fine, but they would have to talk later… In the meantime.

"Kreacher. Would you be able to help me with something please…?"

ooo0ooo

Hermione had always had a tendency to get absorbed in her work. Extending the effective period of Polyjuice Potion had been a pet project of hers for a while now, and today she had finally made a breakthrough. She had just turned back into herself, after a period of three hours when a tap came at the door.

"Who is it?"

"It is Kreacher, Mistress Hermione."

Straightening up from her notes, Hermione realised how late it must be. "Come in Kreacher"

Without bothering to open the door, the little elf appeared in front of her.

"Mistress Hermione, it is getting let. Please allow Kreacher to put this away for you…"

Hermione straightened, pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Thank you Kreacher, that would be very kind of you. Is…. is Master Loki back?"

The old elf smiled knowingly. "I believe he may be upstairs Mistress Hermione."

"Thank you again Kreacher…"

Hermione debated whether or not to just go straight to the Great Hall for supper, but she felt tired and grubby from her day in the lab, and the thought of changing, and maybe even asking one of the elves to bring something up was attractive. Pushing open the door into their sitting room, she stopped, stunned.

The cosy tower room had been transformed. In one of the window alcoves stood a small, but exquisitely proportioned Christmas tree, decorated with green and red baubles that were so delicate that they had to be magical, holly and ivy was draped across the fireplace and pictures, and everywhere there were plain white candles. The armchairs had been transfigured into a small dining table and chairs, which were laid for dinner, the candlelight reflecting off crystal and silver.

"I'm sorry"

Hermione turned, to find Loki standing in the bedroom doorway, wearing a soft green jumper and jeans. His hair, still damp from the shower, hung loose around his face, and he pushed it back nervously, trying to gauge her mood. Seeing that she no longer seemed angry, he took a deep breath…

"I am sorry. I… I just hate this. I hate these – attacks, and not even being able to go into your potions cupboard without freaking out, and the fact that I can't spend a night with you without waking you up…. and I hate you feeling as though you have to care for me _all_ the time and that I'm so weak and pathetic and …. Because I can't sleep properly I get so tired, and when I get tired it all gets on top of me and I get so angry and I take it out on you, even though I know I shouldn't …. then I'm so _afraid._ That this isn't going to go away... That I'll push you away, that you'll realise what I'm really like and you'll leave me and I _can't_ lose you…. I _can't…."_ He hadn't meant for it all to come out in a big rush – but the cork was out of the bottle now, and to his utter mortification he realised that his eyes were wet and swiped at them angrily. " _Damn_ _…._ this wasn't how this was supposed to happen at all. I was going to be all polite and apologetic, and I've run you a bath, and Kreacher is going to bring us dinner and now I'm babbling and …. _oh_ " A pair of warm soft lips had closed over his, stealing both his breath and his words...

When they parted, she made no attempt to leave his arms, her head resting contentedly against his shoulder. "Are you done?" her smile was impish but her eyes were warm.

Wordlessly, he nodded.

"This is lovely. You've been busy."

He nodded. "I got the idea for the tree from Hagrid… I helped him bring the big ones in this morning."

Hermione smiled, but her eyes were puzzled. "I didn't know that you knew Hagrid that well.."

"I didn't but we – we had a cup of tea in his hut this morning. He's going to introduce me to some of the magical creatures that he looks after if I go back... Anyway, that was when he asked me if I'd like to help him.. I'd never seen a Christmas Tree before, we decorate with evergreens in Asgard, but not trees like that. When we'd brought the big trees in I asked if he could help me find one to fit in here. Is it alright? I'm sorry, I'm babbling again."

Hermione wrapped her arms around his waist, fingers slipping under his sweater, to find warm bare skin beneath. "Loki. Did you say something about a bath?"

"Yes I did?"

She tilted her face up to him for another kiss. "Do you fancy coming and scrubbing my back?"

"I could wash your hair if you like"

"Even better…. but there's one more thing I have to say…"

"Yes"

She took his face between her hands, eyes soft, but very serious. "I'm in this for the long haul. You understand?" when he still looked confused, she continued. "You've been through a lot – I know that. I also know that this is going to take time. But it _will_ get better I promise. You just have to promise _me_ something in return"

"Anything"

"Seriously. You have to promise to stop pushing me away. I am _not_ leaving you… but when things get difficult you need to _talk_ to me Silvertongue – use your words. I'm good, but I'm no mind reader. Now – do we have a deal?"

She shrieked, as he scooped her up in his arms, heading for their bathroom…

"We have a deal"

ooo0ooo

This Midgardian Christmas was already an improvement on any Midwinter Festival he could remember, thought Loki, if only for the fact that he had woken up that morning with his arms full of a warm, sleepy and very willing witch, something he had certainly never had the pleasure of on Asgard. So pleasant had it been, in fact, that they had only just made it down to the Great Hall in time for Christmas lunch. As was traditional, Hermione had told him, staff, students and guests all ate together at a large table rather than the usual top table and houses. The dozen or so students that had stayed had been a little overwhelmed at first – particularly the younger ones, but under the influence of the excellent food, everyone soon had a fine time.

The meal had been cleared, and everyone was mingling and chatting when Hagrid caught up with him.

"How're you doin'…. Mr Lawes"

Loki smiled, flicking one of his favourite glass baubles to make it catch the light. "Well, I have my good days, and my bad days. But I'm talking about it when things get too much, and I'm sleeping better now that Hermione has made some adjustments to the Dreamless Sleep Potion."

"Ah – that's good news. If yer can't sleep, everythin's harder"

Hermione had joined them now, wrapping her arm around Loki's waist, leaning against him. "…and in the New Year he's promised to come down to St Mungo's with me…. to see if one of the Mind Healers can help him… no pressure, just a preliminary chat." She looked at the two of them beadily, then smiled up at Hagrid. "So whatever you said that day, to kick some sense into him, I thank you…"

Hagrid bent to give her a rather whiskery hug…. " 'Appy Christmas 'ermione"

After they had seen Hagrid onto the path back to his hut, they walked along the terrace, arms around one another, admiring the snowy landscape.

Hermione stopped, looking down over the parapet to the Black Lake where some of the students had been building snowmen. "This is my favourite time of year I think." She looked back and upwards over her shoulder "Is it cold in Asgard at this time of year? And speaking of Asgard - have you heard from them at all?"

Loki smiled. "There were some extra parcels sitting under the tree when I went up to get our cloaks, but I didn't stop to investigate. And yes, it is cold - frosty sometimes but we never get snow like this in Asgard – sometimes on the mountains, but never in the city that I can remember. This is stunning."

Hermione shivered in spite of her heavy cloak, and slipped under his to snuggle closer to him. "Hogwarts is always truly magical at Christmas.. It's so beautiful."

Loki tilted her chin up. The cold weather brightened her eyes, and brought a glow to her skin. "Yes, Hogwarts is beautiful.. but you are lovelier by far"

She chuckled softly. "Smooth – very smooth Silvertongue."

He bent his head, lips brushing teasingly against hers…. "Now you know that's not the only reason for my nickname don't you?"

She moaned softly as he deepened the kiss further, wrapping his arms around her to pull her tightly against him. When the need to breath forced them apart at last, he rested his cheek on her hair…

"Happy Christmas Sweetheart…."


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you so much to all those that are following this story. This chapter and the next are the conclusions to story arcs from Tales of the Third Brother, so if you haven't read this already, you might want to have a look. Just a little one this time, as I didn't want to repeat a lot of what has already been discussed at some length in Sif's Quest._

 _As always, I do not have any claim on JKR or Marvel's characters, and do this solely for my, and your enjoyment._

 _Happy New Year to you all. Merrick xx_

* * *

 _ **Christmas the Second. The Palace of Asgard.**_

Hermione tweaked the evergreen garlands and candles which adorned the special chamber, with its magical and military wards in which Harry Potter lay, back into place to her satisfaction. It had been forty seven years since he had made his sacrifice, for her, for Loki and for the family they would build, and every day she came in to sit with him for a few minutes, to talk, to read to him and to check that all was as it should be. She knew that Loki also dropped in, sometimes with her, sometimes alone, as often as his duties to Asgard allowed. And every night, without fail, their children, Lilja and Haldor would come in to bid goodnight to Unca' Harry.

"I have to go now. I am due at the Midwinter Festival, and I cannot be late. Jane and Frigga will need me for the final details."

Bending to drop a kiss onto his forehead, she smoothed her new gown.

"Happy Christmas Harry"

ooo0ooo

The Great Midwinter Festival was in full swing. The long tables, which a few hours ago had been literally groaning with roasted meats, side dishes, bread, fruit and sweetmeats, not to mention enough ale, mead and mulled wine to render a small Midgardian country drunk for a week, were now looking distinctly lighter, although the supply of drink showed no sign of flagging. Hermione had drunk enough of the wine to feel full and pleasantly mellow. The children had been born away to the family wing to enjoy their Midwinter gifts for they loved the chance to each as much as they wished without parental nagging to eat their vegetables, but rapidly bored with the carousing and talking which followed.

"My Lords and Ladies. My Friends. You are most welcome." Hermione smiled, looking to her right, where Thor had risen to make his customary speech, causing the hall to fall silent for the first time that evening. "Before we all become too befuddled by the feast, I would like to wish you all on behalf of the Queen and I, the Lady Frigga, Prince Loki and Princess Hermione, and all of our family, a very Good Midwinter." He paused to allow for his audience to return his good wishes before continuing. "As those of you familiar with these occasions know, this is a time for feasting and rejoicing, but also for reflection on the year past, and a chance to look to the future. It is also a chance to appreciate the presence of those we love, and to remember those that are not with us. As has become our custom, I ask you to raise your glasses. "To Absent Friends"

As one, the whole hall rose and roared the toast back to him. In the silence that followed, one voice was heard from the back of the hall.

"To absent friends"

Thor froze, as every eye turned to the travel stained figure, dwarfed by the huge doorway. Long missed, but still familiar, especially to Thor, who abandoning his seat circled the end of the top table to meet her. Shedding her baggage and staff, she dropped to one knee, fist to shoulder in formal salute. "My Lord"

Strong hands raised her to her feet. "Lady Sif. You are most welcome. You have been greatly missed" Thor kissed her formally on both cheeks before waving a hand to those at the tables. "Please my friends. Continue – enjoy yourselves." As the volume rose once more in the hall he picked up her bags himself, drawing her up to the top table with an arm around her shoulder where Frigga and Jane came forward to greet her.

But Sif had other things on her mind. Acknowledging her friends with smiles, she made her way to Loki, where to his surprise she dropped to one knee before him. Startled at this unexpected greeting, he rose to his feet to raise her. "Lady Sif?"

"Prince Loki. I apologise for taking you from the Midwinter Feast, but might I beg a conversation with you in private please?"

Loki looked at her, perplexed. "Lady Sif, it would be my honour to speak with you. But you have had a long journey, you have been away for a long time. You need rest, refreshment. We can speak when you are rested."

Sif shook her head. "I thank you My Lord, but this is a matter of grave importance to me."

Loki looked down at Hermione, who looked wary, but smiled encouragingly. "If you need to speak to my husband Lady Sif, I will go to ensure the servants have your room prepared for your return."

"Thank you My Lady" with a little bow of gratitude, Sif allowed herself to be led out of the hall and into Loki's study, taking a seat, at his invitation, in a comfortable armchair by the fire."

"Can I get you some wine Sif?"

"Thank you." She looked at this new Loki, more relaxed, more confident, and compared it to the Loki of her memories, brittle, acerbic, masking his insecurities behind a frigid royal mask. He handed her the goblet with a smile, a little puzzled by her scrutiny as he sat opposite her. "What is it?"

"You're different"

He smiled. "So are you. Thor never told me where you went or why. By the time I awoke after my injury – you were - gone."

"After the convergence I had a long talk with Thor. Learned that I'd been wrong about a lot of things – about you." She shrugged. "I was a mess. He and Frigga sent me to Arno. To her old mentor"

Loki's face brightened. "You went to An-Kela."

"Eventually. I spent a long time travelling on Arno, trying to find her. Nearly got eaten by a Direwolf."

"If you survived a Direwolf attack you have my eternal respect, they are formidable creatures. How badly were you wounded?"

She grimaced. "Badly enough. Fortunately An-Kela found me at that point. I was her guest for some time. We talked – a lot."

"She took you soul walking of course?"

"She did." Sif took a deep breath. "I am not certain how you will feel about this, but I do not feel it is fair to keep it from you. It was your past that we walked through"

He nodded. "I had assumed that that might be the case. It might be better if you did not tell me which bits of my reprehensible past you dug into though"

Sif nodded. "That is fair. But there is one thing I must tell you, for it was not a part of the soul walk. An-Kela nearly lost me." She took a deep breath. "There was a critical moment – a difficult moment, when I fell."

He looked at her, searchingly "You fell?"

"I fell through a section of your memories and landed in a cell. Forgive me, but I now understand why you allied yourself with the Chitauri when you did."

Loki's eyes were very bright in his pale face. "I see. And if I asked you to keep these details to yourself?"

"You have my word My Lord. As an Aesir and as a warrior, that all I learned that day will not be disclosed to a living soul, unless you or the Allfather demand it of me"

He nodded, satisfied eyes widening in surprise as she left her chair to kneel before him once more. "What is it Sif?"

"My Lord. In my initial conversation with Thor, then in the long years I spent wandering alone, and later in my discussions with An-Kela I realised that I had... I had misunderstood many of your actions. That I had been wilfully cruel in the early years of our fr... acquaintance. I made no effort to understand the reasons for your actions, always putting the worst interpretation on them. I have been no friend to you or to the Princess Hermione. I allowed my friendship with Thor to cloud my judgement, ignoring the lack of wisdom he showed in his youth." She took a deep breath. "A very long time ago, we were friends, you and I, and I threw it away. And I am sorry for it. Is it too late to ask your forgiveness?"

Rising, Loki raised her to her feet and returned her to her seat. "Wow"

She quirked an eyebrow, risking a joke. "An eloquent response"

"Is this to do with you and Harry?"

"Yes – and no. Yes, that was what prompted me at the beginning. But as I began to unravel things in my mind, with An-Kela's aid it became so much more than that. I dared to hope that with the help of the Princess Hermione, and Harry, that you may be further along this road than I already. I know from Harry that you never attempted to prevent our relationship, no matter how justified that might have been, and for that I thank you. But it is wrong that those we both love are caught forever in the cross fire. If we cannot yet be friends, I hope that there may at least be peace between us.

Rising, he offered her his arm with a smile. "I have born you no true ill will for many years now Sif. Even before the Convergence, before your departure I wished only that you could see that I had changed. That I was not the man I had been. Do you wish to return to the Hall, or would you prefer your chambers?"

Sif smiled, relaxing a little. "My chambers please. I do not want to return to the Hall in all my dirt. I will bathe, eat and sleep, and face the rest of Asgard in the morning."

"A wise decision I think. Although I cannot guarantee that my mother will not be waiting for you." Sif realised with some confusion, that he had led her into the family wing. "Before you return to your chambers, there is something I wish you to see."

Silently opening a door, he led her into what she swiftly realised was a nursery, warm comfortable, filled with books and toys with a table at the end for meals and lessons. To her left were two further doors, both ajar, with nightlights shining through. Finger to his lips Loki led her to the first door where a black haired girl was sprawled asleep across the bed, the covers tangled around her, book in hand. With a smile, Loki smoothed the covers with a practiced hand, rescuing the book from the edge of the bed before it fell.

"Lilja, our eldest. Named for Harry's mother Lily."

"Papa" the voice came from behind them. Turning Loki smiled. "Shh Haldor. Do not wake your sister." The speaker was a sturdy little boy of perhaps 35 with soft brown curls of a similar shade to his mother, well grown, but not too grown for his father to scoop him up in his arms and whisk him back to his room, Sif still in his wake. "Who's that Papa?"

"That is a very old friend of mine and Uncle Thor's. Her name is Lady Sif and you can talk to her tomorrow. Bedtime young man."

"'Kay Papa. Night night." Dropping a kiss on his sleepy son's forehead, Loki slipped out, smiling at Sif's expression.

"What?"

"You – a father, and a doting father at that. I had not thought..."

"You were not alone in that. Before I met Hermione... I never thought either."

Closing the door behind them, he offered his arm once more as they headed back to Sif's chambers, talking gently of this and that, for there was much for her to catch up on. When they finally arrived at her door, Loki bent to kiss her on the cheek.

"Goodnight Sif, sleep well. And in answer to your question. Yes, you are forgiven, for I have had much to atone for myself." He held out a hand and she gripped his forearm as was their tradition. "Friends?"

"Friends."


	3. Chapter 3

_As with the previous chapter, this little story concludes the "Of Fathers Sons and Brothers" story arc within "Tales of the Third Brother". In answer to a reviewer that I am having problems replying to. Harry does not need an apple. The original agreement with Hela included his being granted the Aesir's long lifespan if he chose to return. It was the only way that he could have survived the whole process. So there will be no ceremonial giving of the apple in this chapter._

 _As this is the very last story in this universe - for now at least (never say never) - I would like to thank all of the readers and reviewers who have followed, favourited, read and reviewed these stories since Keeping the Stars Apart in April of last year. Love hugs and thanks to you all._

 _I would also like to pass on my special thanks to the lovely Ms Kitty Black, who what feels like centuries ago told me 'just write the bloody thing already!' and since then has been unfailingly supportive, while still telling me 'that's a really bad idea don't do it!' occasionally. I love you Kitty x_

 _With love. Merrick_

* * *

 _The pain in his head was gone, but his body felt tight, prickly and unfamiliar. Harry tried to lift his head, but right now it felt far too much like hard work._

 _Who was humming?_

 _With an effort, Harry opened his eyes._

A girl was sitting in a chair by his bed. She lounged sideways, a large velvet cushion at her back, one leg hooked over the arm of the chair, dark head bent, utterly absorbed in the book on her lap. Fourteen by the look of her, although if this was still Asgard, anything was possible Harry thought. Tall for her age, lean and agile looking, dressed like a boy in the usual leather and bronze. Glossy black curls, loosely confined by a ribbon in the nape of her neck, hung almost to her waist. A strand had escaped to tickle her cheek, she tucked it behind her ear with a huff of impatience which was hauntingly familiar to Harry, as was the dusting of freckles across the girl's nose.

Could this be...?

Harry tried to speak, forgetting that after one hundred years of silence his voice would be little more than a breathless wheeze. It was enough though. He could see the moment when the girl froze, her bright green eyes lifting to his, as wide as saucers, as the colour drained from her face.

"Oh my... you're... you're ... awake!" The girl rose abruptly, resting a small slender hand imperiously on his chest. "Don't ... don't move – I'll be back..." Turning the girl hurried from the room - in the distance Harry could hear her giving orders to someone with the ease of long command.

"Tell my parents – Quickly. My father will be most displeased if he is kept waiting..."

Light hurried footsteps heralded the girl's return. Pausing momentarily at a side table, she returned to his side with a cup of water.

"Here, you must drink." A capable arm slid beneath his shoulders, helping him to lift his head. "Steady now, not too much at first."

When he had drunk, Harry cleared his throat and tried again. "Who are you?"

The girl perched informally on the side of his bed, one booted foot swinging . "Oh! Of course. I've known you my whole life – I forgot that we've never actually met. I'm Lilja. Princess Lilja of Asgard on formal occasions, but you're my Uncle Harry so you don't need to worry about that."

Harry frowned. "Lilja?"

The girl's eyes softened as she took his hand in hers. "It's me Uncle Harry. I'm the child you did this..." she gestured vaguely at Harry lying on the bed "...for. Hence my name. It means Lily, like your mother."

It had worked. Hermione and Loki had their family, and this glorious girl had grown up secure, happy and loved by _both_ parents because of him. Harry hadn't realised he was crying until she wiped his face with a grubby linen handkerchief. She turned away to refill his cup, giving him a moment to compose himself.

"Sif will be so cross that she wasn't here. She's barely left the palace for ages because we knew that you would wake soon, but Uncle Thor had something official that he needed her to do." Lilja's smile was pure wickedness – exactly like her father thought Harry. "Sif was _furious_. I wouldn't want to be Uncle Thor when she finds out that she missed this..."

"... Sif thinks of me then?" Harry's voice was still harsh with disuse. Lilja raised an eyebrow and smiled, returning to her perch.

"Oh, every now and then I do believe." She lifted her head, listening. "Here come the hoards. I'm glad it was me that was here Uncle Harry. I'll leave you to them now..." Her hair brushed his cheek as she bent to kiss his forehead. "Welcome home..."

He watched her hurry out into the corridor to greet her parents, and only a moment later Hermione and Loki rushed into the chamber.

"Why didn't you just apparate?" Harry wheezed, smiling at the evidence of their haste. "They hadn't changed at all, he thought in amazement, wondering if he was any different.

"We can't. The wards in here are really powerful. It took Loki, Frigga, Hela and I to set them up in the first place. We weren't taking any chances." Hermione sank into the space just vacated by her daughter, and touched his cheek wonderingly. "Welcome home Harry. I..." her voice cracked and she fell silent.

Loki pulled Lilja's chair closer to the bed, resting a hand just above his wife's, on Harry's arm.

"You named her for my mother..." Harry rasped. Loki reached for the water cup once more.

"It was the least we could do." Loki's voice was rough too, and his eyes were suspiciously bright. "I have thought of you every day that you were away Little Brother, and been grateful for what you did for me – for us."

Harry coughed, wincing, but felt better for it. "Worth every moment. She's exactly what I would have expected your daughter to be. The perfect combination of you both."

Wrapping an arm around his shoulders, Loki lifted him carefully off the pillows, allowing Hermione to slip two more behind him. Miraculously the tickle in his chest subsided.

"Eir says you are not to attempt anything more strenuous than sipping water and talking – _a little -_ until she gets her to give you a thorough check up." Hermione said firmly. "She knew that she wouldn't be able to stop us, but you are forbidden other visitors until she gives you the all clear. Sleeping for one hundred years is unusual even in Asgard, and she isn't taking any chances."

Harry discovered to his relief that his hands and arms were moveable, if still stiff. Taking the cup from Loki's grasp, he took another sip. "Have you seen Hela?"

Loki said nothing, but his expression told Harry all he needed to know. Hermione smiled. "She's installed in her own set of chambers in the family wing. She won't be here all the time, but we hope to see a great deal more of her thanks to you."

Harry closed his eyes for a moment, remembering the expression on Odin's face when he had said goodbye in Harry's old room in the House at the Gateway.

"Loki." The bright green eyes he had missed so much met his. "Loki, when you are ready – I think you should take a trip to visit Hela at home. There is someone who very badly needs to speak to you there".

A myriad of emotions crossed Loki's face in the minutes that followed and his grip on Harry's arm increased. _He shows more,_ thought Harry, _the mask has gone._ It was a good thing – but this easier to read Loki would take some adjusting to.

"I will think about it..."

Harry nodded. At the moment that was all he could ask for.

In the distance a door flung open and the sound of running feet was heard approaching. Loki looked at Hermione in some consternation, reaching for the dagger at his waist... "That is not Eir..."

It was not Eir.

She was every bit as lovely as Harry remembered. Long black hair disheveled, and face flushed from her haste, she stood frozen on the threshold...

"Sif..."

 _ **Christmas the Third. The Palace of Asgard. Midwinter Eve.**_

Jane finished a final discussion with Thor's Master Of Ceremonies, and cast a final critical look around the banqueting hall, laid out in full ceremonial splendour. Across the courtyard, in the Throne Room the court was beginning to assemble. Frigga, who had been upstairs all afternoon supervising proceedings was waiting in an anti room, taking a moment to prepare for the forthcoming ceremony.

It had been a hectic time since Harry had awoken, for these occasions do not organise themselves, Jane thought, but they had waited so long for this already, who could begrudge the hasty preparations needed for a Midwinter wedding.

"Jane. It is time" The Queen of Asgard turned, smiling, finding Thor standing at the top of the hall, dressed in his full ceremonial magnificence.

"How is Harry?"

Thor smiled. "Calm, all things considered. More so than I – and far more so than Loki as I recall. Everyone is assembled, but even the bride and groom must wait upon us." He kissed his wife's fingers before settling them on his arm. "Have I told you how lovely you look?"

Jane smiled demurely, but her eyes twinkled with mischief. "You have, but please do feel free to tell me again. And _you_ look very handsome. Shall we go My Lord?"

As the King and Queen were making their way to an anti room of the Throne Room, where the wedding party were assembling, Sif was fussing in a side-room. Unlike her husband to be she was as twitchy as a cat, and it had taken all of Frigga and Hermione's patience to keep her calm as the hour approached.

"Relax Sif. It is one pin that has slipped, and can be fixed in a moment. Just stand still _please"_ Hermione wished that Sif were not so tall, as she stood on tiptoe to adjust the single curl that had slipped from beneath the coronet of elaborate gold filigree that Gayan had lost considerable sleep to create in time. The effect on Sif's black hair was both elegant and striking. Mission accomplished, Hermione stepped back, tweaking the heavy deep red velvet of Sif's train back into place.

"Do you mind?"

Hermione met Sif's eyes in the mirror, frowning at the anxiety she saw there. "Do I mind what?"

"Harry and I have all this for our wedding. Yours and Loki's was – so quiet – so much smaller."

"Loki and I had exactly the wedding we wanted. Thor offered us... all this, but it wasn't what we wanted at the time. Enjoy it Sif. The moment passes so quickly. Try to take a breath and savour it."

Sif leaned down to kiss Hermione on the cheek. "Thank you – for your friendship. For forgiving me..."

Hermione smiled warmly, returning Sif's embrace. " _In cases such as this a good memory is unpardonable_. It is all in the past Sif, and best left there." Entirely satisfied with Sif's appearance, she checked her own briefly in the mirror, smoothing her bronze velvet skirt with its gold embroidery, looking up at a knock on the door.

"Who is it?"

Her daughter's sleek dark head appeared around the door.

"Professor Dumbledore, mother. Who do you think? Uncle Thor asked me to tell you that everyone is ready. Uncle Harry is already in the Hall, so you can come out of hiding."

"Minx" sighed Hermione, "come here child and let me look at you." With a reluctant sigh, Lilja presented herself for inspection. Her gown, of a similar colour to her mother's, was simpler in design, and decorated with her favourite dark green. "You look lovely darling. Do _try_ not to fidget."

"Mama I will have my hundredth birthday in the Spring." Lilja tilted her chin arrogantly, and the resemblance to her father was suddenly even more striking than usual "I'm not a _baby._ I do know how to behave."

Hermione huffed as she shepherded Sif and her daughter to the door. "Let us hope your brother does." Haldor had been tasked with assisting his grandmother with the ceremony – Hermione just hoped he wasn't too nervous. Unlike his sister, Haldor was quiet and studious, much as his mother had been as a child, and sometimes found these ceremonial occasions a trial.

Entering the anti room they found Thor, Jane, Bjarte and Brandt awaiting them, all in their full ceremonial finery. The twins were stiff with pride in their first full sets of armour.

Leaving Sif and Lilja with Thor, Hermione took Brandt's proffered hand and permitted him to escort her to her place - since Loki was with Harry - following Jane and Bjarte into the Throne Room.

"You look lovely Aunt Hermione" her nephew smiled, "... as does Lilja. Do you think she would mock me if I asked her to dance with me later?"

"She will probably tease you Brandt, as she always does, but she means nothing by it." He and Bjarte were growing up, Hermione thought with a pang, handsome strapping lads, the image of Aesir perfection, just like their father. Jane regularly thanked the Gods that Freya at least bore some resemblance to her mother... 'otherwise I would feel like I had no involvement in the proceedings at all.'

Taking her place on the steps, Hermione caught her husband's eye and smiled. Beside him, Harry did indeed look remarkably calm, in full ceremonial armour. There had been no time to make any anew for him, but the black and brushed silver had been worn once, for Thor and Jane's wedding, when Harry and Sif had had their first dance, so perhaps wearing it today was not inappropriate.

Frigga was in her place now and the musicians were serenading Thor and Sif as they made their way slowly to the step, preceded by Lilja, very much on her best behaviour, where Thor ceded custody of the bride to her proud bridegroom. Walking either side of the couple, the Lords of Asgard ascended the stairs to join their wives on opposite sides of the steps...

Raising her arms in welcome, Frigga's voice range clearly across the vast space.

" _My Lords and Ladies, dear friends and family._

 _We are gathered here together on this joyous Midwinter Eve, to witness the joining in love of these two souls..."_

 **The End...**

 _Our revels now are ended. These our actors,_

 _As I foretold you, were all spirits and_

 _Are melted into air, into thin air:_

 _And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,_

 _The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,_

 _The solemn temples, the great globe itself,_

 _Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve_

 _And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,_

 _Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff_

 _As dreams are made on, and our little life_

 _Is rounded with a sleep._

The Tempest. William Shakespeare.


End file.
